


I ACCIDENTALLY SENT U. DICKPIC DONT OEPN

by clokkerfoot



Series: Modern MCU crack [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Dick Pics, F/M, Humour, M/M, Snapchat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:44:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6625549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clokkerfoot/pseuds/clokkerfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title says it all. Bucky accidentally sends Steve a dickpic on Snapchat.</p><p>Based on <a href="https://twitter.com/youngxdann/status/722597996542705664">this tweet.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	I ACCIDENTALLY SENT U. DICKPIC DONT OEPN

**Author's Note:**

> Obvious warnings for repeated mentions of penises & unsolicited (but not unappreciated) dickpics. First section is Bucky's PoV, but the rest is all Steve.

Bucky had gotten quite good at using his iPhone. It’d confused the fuck out of him at first, when Tony handed him a slab of aluminium and said “Here, you can use this to call me or Steve or, uh, whoever ninety year olds call,” but he’d gotten a lot better. He’d yet to do anything stupid, like accidentally call the president or dial 911 unintentionally, and he was damn proud.

Natasha had introduced him to an app called Snapchat a few weeks ago. He didn’t quite get it. He could send pictures using the messaging system built into the phone, or send them over Facebook, and he wasn’t ever worried that someone would use his pictures for bad things, so he didn’t understand the time limit. It just stressed him out, especially if there was text across the pictures that he needed to read. Five seconds just wasn’t enough time, sometimes.

Since Nat had introduced him to the app, she’d been sending him a whole array of different pictures. Some of her and Clint in bed during a lazy morning (Bucky sent back his best disgusted face whenever those ones came through), some of her weapons after they’d been cleaned (Bucky liked those pictures best), and then some… other pictures.

She had next to no shame and she and Bucky were very good friends, so if she looked good, clothed or otherwise, she would send Bucky a picture of herself. He didn’t mind, and neither did Clint (not that he could’ve stopped her sending them, even if he tried), so he welcomed the pictures. Bucky often returned one of his own. It wasn’t flirting, and it wasn’t even sexual, really. They were friends, and they just happened to swap tasteful nudes every so often. It was confidence building, if anything, and Bucky had never felt better about his body.

Today was like any other. Nat had sent him a picture of herself posing completely naked in front of a full-length mirror. She had one of her hands threaded through her hair—which was damp and curly, as if she’d just gotten out of the shower—and she looked smokin’. And she knew that, if the confident smile on her face was anything to go by. You couldn’t fake that kind of shameless self-love, no matter how good you were at espionage.

Bucky was at home when she sent it. Steve and Sam were in the rec room, playing pool. Bucky could hear them laughing, and from the sounds of things they were fairly close towards finishing their game. Bucky was up to play next, against the winner, because he was the best at pool out of all of them. He could’ve stripped in the room right there and taken the picture, but instead he slinked over to the bathroom and locked himself in.

The picture was pretty good. The lighting in the bathroom was a little weak, but he looked fucking awesome with the shadows accentuating his muscles and the plates of his arm. He didn’t bother covering up his junk, because Nat hadn’t, but he did place a grinning emoji over his face. He tapped the arrow in the corner of the screen, then Nat’s name, then clicked the arrow again to send the picture.

And his heart just about stopped.

Sometimes, when he used his metal hand to type things on his phone, his fingers didn’t grip the screen as well as his flesh ones did. His arm hadn’t been designed to hold an iPhone, and it hadn’t been designed to type on one either. So, sometimes, his finger slipped or the phone misinterpreted his touch.

He usually ended up misspelling a word or clicking a pop-up advertisement by mistake, or something else minor, but this was by far the worst thing he’d ever accidentally done.

**—**

Steve was winning. Sam was a damn good pool player, so he nearly always won games. But Steve was persistent, and he was _finally_ winning. He was only a couple of balls away from the 8-ball, and he’d nearly cheered with joy five or so times.

His phone was in his back pocket, and when it vibrated intensely—Tony had set the vibration pattern to match the rhythm of the national anthem, and Steve hadn’t figured out how to change it back yet—he nearly jumped out of his skin. It was Sam’s turn, so Steve excused himself and walked over to where his glass of water was stood.

He sipped at the ice-cold water for a few moments, staring at his lit-up lock screen. Bucky had sent him a Snapchat. He’d become quite fond of the app, and sent Steve pictures of random things at obscene times of day. Once, he’d sent Steve a picture of the Statue of Liberty with the caption _YO SHE’S SOOO PRETTY STEV_ at four AM, when he was supposed to be asleep, not on Liberty Island. So, Steve wasn’t averse to receiving Snapchats from Bucky, because they were amusing. But Bucky was only a wall away, sat in the lounge next door to the rec room, so he had no reason to send a Snapchat. Still…

 **Snapchat** now  
from Bucky Bear ★

Steve smiled at the nickname, and was just about to slide the notification to open it when he received another from Bucky. This time it was a text, and Steve choked on his mouthful of water.

 **Bucky Barnes** now  
I ACCIDENTALLY SENT U. DICKPIC DONT OEPN  
slide to reply

**—**

Steve Rogers was the greatest friend in the whole world. He absolutely had not been thinking about the picture Bucky had sent him. He absolutely had not nearly opened the Snapchat five times (and counting). He absolutely had _not_ been fantasising about what Bucky’s penis looked like.

Nope. He hadn’t done any of those things. Not a single one.

“Why’re you acting so weird?” Sam asked, while they strapped their hands up to fight. They were having a recreation day, which included pool, running, boxing, and a trip to a diner at the end of it all for burgers and milkshakes. Boxing was their last activity for the day, and Steve had already called ahead at the diner so they had time to prepare his customary eight burgers.

“‘M’not,” Steve replied, avoiding Sam’s gaze. He ripped the end of the tape with his teeth, then moved onto his next hand. Sam was already taped up, and he was bouncing on the balls of his feet. Steve waved at him, “Go on. I’ll catch up.”

Sam nodded and jogged through the double doors into the gym. Steve sighed and concentrated on wrapping the tape around his knuckles, half-listening to the music that was playing through speakers in the corners of the locker room. He hummed along, even though he didn’t really recognise the song.

He had just finished wrapping his hand when Bucky strolled into the locker room. He was wearing a red sports jacket and blue joggers made from the same thin polyester material. Steve called his name on reflex, but noticed a second later that Bucky was wearing headphones over his ears. That explained the strange dance he was doing while he walked. Steve didn’t wanna mention it.

Steve shrugged and continued prepping for his spar with Sam. He laced up his sneakers, then turned around, intending to head straight through to the gym.

Damn Bucky. _Damn_ him.

He was in the shower. The bastard had stripped in the time it’d taken Steve to lace his shoes, and he’d walked straight into the open shower room and lathered up. He hadn’t even noticed Steve stood only a few feet away, and had turned to face the back wall of the shower room without saying a damn word or making his presence known.

Steve grit his teeth at the sight of Bucky’s naked ass covered in suds. He knew Bucky was attractive—he was just as physically fit as Steve was, but he carried himself twice as well—but _God_ , he was so. Damn. Attractive.

He was _teasing_ Steve. That’s what it was. He was _daring_ him to open that Snapchat.

“Fuck it,” Steve muttered, “Just, fuck it.”

He turned back around to face his locker and retrieved his phone from his backpack. He opened the Snapchat app and, after trying (and failing) to steady his breathing, he opened the Snapchat from Bucky.

Well.

That was—

Well.

Steve flushed almost immediately when the photograph disappeared, his cheeks red-hot. He… felt underwhelmed. Sure, that was a pretty nice nude picture he’d just looked at for six seconds, but he’d built it up to be way more than he’d expected it to be.

It was a dickpic. A gorgeous dickpic (as gorgeous as they could be, he supposed), but a dickpic nontheless. He huffed and replayed it. Bucky was stood in a bathroom—the bathroom next to the rec room, Steve realised—his crotch and torso the main focus of the picture. He’d covered his face with a stupid emoji, but it was definitely Bucky. The metal arm completely gave him away.

“A replay? That good, huh?” Bucky said from behind Steve, his breath light on Steve’s ear. Steve might’ve crapped himself with shock. Everything clenched all at once, so probably not, but he still flinched. “Thought you’d last a little longer than six hours, Stevie.”

Steve didn’t answer for a moment. He stared down at his screen, at the little hollow pink box that betrayed him. “Sorry,” he said, weakly.

Bucky clapped him on the shoulder and laughed. “Don’t worry about it, pal. I ain’t got a problem with it if you don’t.”

“I don’t.”

“Good!” Bucky said. He grinned and walked over to his locker, the one four along from Steve’s. He was—thankfully—wearing a towel around his waist, so Steve didn’t blush even harder than he already had been.

“Who was it meant for?” Steve asked. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned away from Bucky while he dried himself off and got dressed. “You got some dame you ain’t told me about?”

“Nat,” Bucky answered. Steve was about to protest, about to yell at Bucky for fooling around with a woman who was practically married to one of Steve’s closest friends, but Bucky continued before he could, “But she ain’t _my_ dame. She’s Barton’s, you know that. We just swap pictures sometimes. ‘S’not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal,” Steve repeated.

He stood there in silence while Bucky dressed himself, listening to the crappy gym music again. He still felt some bizarre inclination to protect Bucky’s privacy, even though he had quite literally bared every inch of himself to Steve. God, he had looked good. And Steve… kinda wanted in on what Bucky and Nat had going on.

“Any chance I could get in on that?” he asked before he could change his mind.

Bucky was quiet for a moment, then: “You wanna see my dick? Listen, Steve, I like ya a lot, but we ain’t even been on a real date yet, so—”

“No, no!” Steve stammered. He was glad he wasn’t looking at Bucky, ‘cause his face was probably as red as a damn tomato. The words _real date_ danced lightly in his chest, and he realised that a date with Bucky sounded like the best damn thing in the world. “I mean, yes? I want to—I want to do the, uh, the picture swapping thing. Sometimes. Figure it could be fun.”

Bucky walked around and stood in front of Steve. He was wearing his usual clothes, and he fixed Steve was a heated stare that Steve had seen him set on dames a hundred times before. It was awful strange to be on the receiving end of it.

“Sure,” Bucky said, slowly. His intense expression melted into a grin, and he winked. “Hey, maybe you’ll get to see the real thing someday. I’ll take you out for a dance, then we’ll see where the evenin’ goes. I always did wanna see you all loved up.”

Steve could’ve melted into a puddle on the floor. Bucky cocked an eyebrow at him, then walked backwards out of the locker room, his eyes on Steve the whole time. And Steve didn’t go boxing with Sam that day. In fact, he didn’t do much of anything aside from one particular personal thing for the rest of the day.

**—**

Two weeks later, Bucky took Steve out for dinner and dancing, just as he’d promised. And Steve _did_ see the real thing, after fourteen or so days of shamelessly imagining the Snapchat version.

It was _much_ more impressive in person.

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> Find me on Tumblr [here](http://clokkerfoot.tumblr.com/).


End file.
